


I Don't Mind

by ShortInsomniac98



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Female Aziraphale (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Other, The Ineffable Plan (Good Omens), fem!aziraphale, starring billie piper as aziraphale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-02-09 14:25:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18639916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShortInsomniac98/pseuds/ShortInsomniac98
Summary: Fem!Aziraphale AU fic in which Adam accidentally places Aziraphale in a female body after kicking him out of Madame Tracy's body. Based loosely on a Tumblr post in which it was suggested that Aziraphale reappear in a form similar to that of Billie Piper.





	1. Chapter 1

“’Scuse me, why’re you two people?” said Adam.

“ _Well_ ,” said Aziraphale, “ _it’s a long—_ ”

“It’s not right, being two people,” said Adam.  “I reckon you’d better go back to being two sep’rate people.”

There were no showy special effects.  There was just Aziraphale, sitting next to Madame Tracy.

Only…it wasn’t exactly Aziraphale.  It was, but...it wasn’t his body, or rather, it didn’t look like his old one.  This body was younger, shorter, thinner, and…female?  She wore a loose-fitting white dress and she had blonde hair that hung loose around her shoulders.  Crowley stared at the figure, eyes wide as he peered at the angel’s new body over the top of his glasses, uncertain of whether or not this was one of the day’s many odd events.  The movements were distinctly Aziraphale’s, though, the facial expressions, too.

“Uh…” said Shadwell, who looked close to spontaneous combustion.  Madame Tracy, equally astonished but with some amusement, took him gently by the arm.

“What is everyone looking a—oh.  Why do I sound like that?”  Aziraphale clutched his new throat, and he realized something didn’t feel right.  Not just his throat, but his hand, too.  And his arm, and the rest of the body it was attached to.  “Oh, my.”

Crowley laughed then, unable to control himself.

“You think this is funny!” cried Aziraphale.

“No, not at all,” said Crowley as he surveyed his acquaintance’s new appearance.  “Well, yes, a bit actually.  I’m sorry.”  He cleared his throat, unable to meet the angel’s eyes, his own falling curiously below the belt.  “Have you got, you know, er…”

“I think it’s safe to assume I have,” snapped Aziraphale shakily, cutting him off before he could say it.  “Boy,” Aziraphale said, turning to Adam.

“Yeah?”

“Can I just ask, _why_?” Aziraphale said softly, trying not to break down into tears or laughter, trying to function through the state of shock he was in.

“Seems to me,” said Adam slowly, “I mean, seems to me, you know…”  He hesitated, kicking at a pebble.  “I mean, you can’t really blame me.  This is just how it read, I guess, in my mind.  I didn’t know what you looked like before.  I saw your…your true form, I guess you’d call it, and your thoughts.  I didn’t see a _physiological_ anything.”

“ _Physiological_?” Aziraphale muttered, grasping frantically at straws, trying to make sense of what the boy was telling him.  “Do you mean _physical_?”

“Yeah, _physical_ ,” said Adam.

Crowley laughed even harder now, and Aziraphale cut a sideways glare at him.

“Angel, really, it isn’t that bad,” he said.

“Speak for yourself!  I’m the one that’s got to deal with this new body, and whatever being in it entails,” he said, trailing off, his thoughts meandering vaguely to what would no doubt happen within about a month.

“You don’t look bad, really,” chimed in Anathema, earning a sidelong glance from Newt.  “What?” she hissed then, noticing this.

“Do you want him to change you back, Miss…er, Mister?” asked a messy-looking boy stepping up from behind Adam.  “I’m sure he could.  Adam’s good at all kinds’a stuff like that.”

“If not, you could, I dunno, put in a request,” said Crowley.

“I—” Aziraphale started to say, but then a bolt of lightning flashed, struck the ground a few meters from Adam, and stayed there.  “I…I think we’ve got bigger issues on our hands right now.”

“What?” Crowley asked.

“Well,” said Aziraphale, watching as a man appeared from that column of lightning, “namely, the Voice of God.  The Metatron.”

* * *

 

Several hours later, after it was all over, Crowley produced a bottle of wine from underneath the seat of the jeep.  How he knew it was there, Aziraphale did not ask, nor did he care.  He just watched as Crowley opened it and gladly accepted it when it was passed to him.

“Some day,” said Crowley with a laugh, looking over at Aziraphale, unable to shake that curious look from his eyes.

“Some day,” Aziraphale agreed, turning the bottle up.

“And to think it was all meant to happen.”  He sighed and took the bottle back from Aziraphale, who wiped it on his, er, her sleeve.  Crowley wasn’t sure what to say, so he said, “You could have asked him, the um, the Metatron, couldn’t you?”

“Wasn’t important at the time,” said Azirpahale, eyes wandering up to the sky, where the stars were just starting to come back out, lighting up the night sky above their heads.

“Is it important now?”

“I don’t know.”  There was almost an uncertain sound to it.

“Do you mind it much?” asked Crowley, quiet, trying hard not to sound either for or against it.

“Really, I don’t,” Aziraphale said, “not yet.  I mean, I’m sure there will be…some things that will bother me eventually, but it’s just another body really, when you get down to it.  The other one wasn’t exactly comfortable either.  Could ask for a replacement eventually, I suppose.  If this one proves too inconvenient.”

Crowley nodded, looking across the tarmac, his brow furrowed but the rest of his expression otherwise vacant.  There was a long silence which followed, interrupted only by a man in a van pulling up and getting out with a box to collect the last remnants left behind by the Four Horsemen, and that was it really.  The man left, and there was no reason to stay any longer.

“Come on,” said Crowley, standing up uneasily and extending a hand to Aziraphale.  “I’ll drive us back to London.”

At some point on the drive home, he said, “You’ll have to buy all new clothes.”

“Oh,” said Aziraphale, eyes wide and concerned, “I hadn’t considered that.”

“I can help,” offered Crowley, “if you like.”

“Very kind of you.  Thank you.  I have no clue how to dress a woman.”

“You know how to undress one,” said Crowley.

“Oh, really!” Aziraphale laughed, cheeks reddening, just visible in the light of the streetlamps lining the road.  “I think that hardly counts.  It was one time, and I seem to remember that you were the one wearing the dress.”  There was a pause, and they laughed.  “Still, that seems like the easy part.”

“Yeah.”

The jeep lurched to a stop just outside the bookshop, and Crowley threw it into park.

“So,” said Aziraphale slowly, staring at his hands in his lap as he had so many times before, thinking how different this time was, “see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Crowley nodded.

“Or, you know…”  He looked out the window at the shop, then to Crowley.  “You know, never mind.  Not this time, eh?”

“Probably for the best,” he agreed.  “You know, considering all that’s happened today.”

“Right,” Aziraphale said, opening the passenger side door and stepping out.

“But, Aziraphale?”

“Yes?” Aziraphale stopped, looking back at Crowley in the car, eyes wide, expectant almost.  And they were almost the same eyes, Crowley thought.

“I really don’t mind,” he said.  “If that makes any difference whatsoever to you.”

“Thanks,” Aziraphale said with a small sort of smile, and shut the door before heading slowly up to the front door of the shop, which was already just as it had been from the looks of things.


	2. Chapter 2

The Jeep revved to life again as Aziraphale stood at the door and patted the places where the keys to the shop should have been.  Hip pocket…there was no hip pocket.  No breast pockets either, and no coat to be spoken of.  Which meant no keys.  The keys, in fact, had been on the hook by the backdoor when he had been discorporated and the bookshop burned down, and were likely still in there now.

“Bugger,” Aziraphale muttered, turning to look back at the car, which was just starting to pull away from the curb.  “Crowley, wait!”

It lurched to a stop and Crowley put the window down.

“Yeah?” he said, leaning forward to look out the window.

“Um,” Aziraphale hesitated, leaning down to look through the window, “well, you see, dear boy, I seem to have misplaced my keys, so I was wondering…”

“Oh,” said Crowley, nodding.  “Sure.  Get in.  You can stay at my place.”

“Thanks.”

Aziraphale got in slowly, still uneasy in the new body and a bit disoriented from the wine.  Crowley didn’t say anything, but he must have seen this because he drove only slightly over the speed limit the whole way back to his flat.

“Here we are,” he said on their arrival, throwing the Jeep into park and stepping out to wait for Aziraphale at the front of the vehicle.

He was half tempted to go around and open the door; that would be the polite thing to do, he thought.  But Aziraphale never liked that sort of thing, and he wasn’t sure what kind of reaction he’d get this time, given the state of things.

“Thanks again,” said Aziraphale, following Crowley up to the front door.

“It’s nothing,” Crowley said.

He didn’t bother with keys, just reached for the doorknob, and because he expected it to turn, it turned, and the door opened.  The same with the lights, it seemed, which turned on as soon as they entered.

“Must you use your powers for everything?” Aziraphale asked.  “Sometimes it’s nice to just do things the human way.”

Crowley looked down at the angel beside him, one eyebrow raised.  “Actually, I didn’t that time.  The lights are on a motion sensor.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale nodded.

Crowley smiled and walked on ahead, disappearing through some doorway, unseen by Aziraphale, who was looking around the front room, feet planted firmly in place.  Everything was so nice, so neat and in its proper place, much unlike the bookshop.  Quite unexpected for the abode of a demon, he thought.

“Coming, angel?” Crowley called, appearing again in a door way.

“Oh, yeah,” said Aziraphale.

Aziraphale kicked his shoes off by the door.  Blisters had already begun to form on his feet, and he was glad for the opportunity to rid himself of the dreadful shoes.  He followed Crowley through the flat, which seemed much larger than it should have been.

“Make yourself at home,” Crowley said when they came to a decadent sitting room which looked like it would have put Buckingham Palace to shame.

Aziraphale’s eyes widened at the sight.

“DVDs, books, music,” Crowley said, pointing vaguely at different areas of the room where there were tall shelves and cupboards.  “Hungry?  I’ve got food in the kitchen if you want food.”

“No, thank you,” said Aziraphale softly.

“Anything to drink?  Water?  Tea, coffee?” he pressed.  “Something stronger?”

“No, actually, um,” Aziraphale hesitated.  “I think I’m okay.”

“Alright.  Let me know.”

“This really is very kind,” said Aziraphale, smiling.

It was an uncomfortable, unfamiliar sort of smile.  Different mouth.  The teeth felt weird and the lips were…well, they were different to say the least.  Crowley smiled back as he settled down in his high-backed throne at the opposite side of the room.  There was something very sweet about that smile, he thought.  A bit different, but he was fond of it, and it was absolutely, a hundred per cent still Aziraphale.

“It’s nothing, angel,” he said again.

“Thank you,” Aziraphale said.

“Really, it’s no bother,” said Crowley.  “Happy to help where I can.”

“Don’t let your side hear you say that,” Aziraphale teased, and Crowley laughed.

“No sides for us anymore, remember?  They’re both rather distracted right now.  We’re on our own.”

Aziraphale nodded slowly.  Heaven and Hell must have been quite distracted, what with the end of the world not happening and all.  All kinds of things could be overlooked.  And he hoped an angel spending the night in the home of a demon was one of them.

“Actually,” Aziraphale said, “there is something I’d like to ask.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you mind if I go to sleep?”

“You?” Crowley asked, surprised.  “Thought you didn’t believe in it.”

“After today, I think I’d rather like to.”

“That’s fine,” said Crowley.  “Understandable.  Bedroom’s down the hall on your left.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened.  “That’s your room.”

“It is.”

“I don’t…” Aziraphale murmured, shaking his head.

“Oh, no!  I didn’t mean—”

“Right.  What about you then?” Aziraphale asked.

“I’m fine here,” he assured Aziraphale.

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay,” he said.  “And…have you got a shower?”

“We don’t need showers,” Crowley said, amused.  Aziraphale was getting more and more human by the minute, or at least less angelic.

“Well, I think I’d find one comforting right now,” he said.  “I understand if you don’t have one.  I didn’t have one… _don’t_ have one.  I…I’ll be fine.”

“There’s a bathroom attached to the bedroom,” Crowley said after a moment.  “I find a cold shower soothing after a particularly bad day.”

“Don’t most people take a hot shower to calm down?”

“I think they do,” he said, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes.  “But I…no.  Not so much for me.”

“Right.  Sorry,” said Aziraphale, understanding.

Crowley nodded.  “Hot water works just fine, though, if that’s what you’re after.”

“Thanks,” he said.  “Really, Crowley, thank you for everything.”

“You’d have done the same for me.”

“No, really.  Everything.  All these years, I-I never said thank you, so…thank you.”

“Oh.  You’re welcome,” Crowley said, a bit awkwardly.

“Right.  Well, good night then.”

“Good night.”

After Aziraphale had left, Crowley tried to fall asleep.  He closed his eyes and waited for unconsciousness to take him as it usually did, but for some reason, it just didn’t come.  His heart and mind were racing.  He couldn’t stop thinking about how much had happened today, how much had been avoided, and oddly enough, how much finally _hadn’t_ been avoided after so many years.

He got up and started to pace uneasily, barely even realizing he was doing it until he found himself in the middle of all his houseplants, reaching for a plant mister that wasn’t there.

That’s right, he remembered; Hastur had destroyed that.  He’d have to get a new one.

He went back to his office, retrieved a book from a shelf, and tried to read.  In the end, he had gotten about ten pages in before noticing he hadn’t read a single word.  He placed it face down on the desk in front of him and laid his head in his arms on top of it.

“What a terrible way to treat a book,” he heard a woman’s voice say from the doorway, and he jumped to his feet.

“Oh, hello,” he said, seeing an unfamiliar woman in his doorway, wrapped only in a towel, and remembering it was the angel only after he gave him a look that seemed to say, “Don’t be so rude!”  Politely, he averted his eyes, pretending to find his shoes of particular interest, and probably, he realized, looking the absolute fool.  “Sorry, er, can I help you with something?”

“I was wondering if I could wear something of yours to bed,” Aziraphale said.  “The clothes Adam gave me aren’t the most comfortable to lie down in.”

“Sure, er,” Crowley said.  “Let me just, erm….Excuse me.”

He stepped past Aziraphale carefully and went back to his bedroom to rummage through his dresser drawers, jumping again when he turned around and saw Aziraphale there beside him.

“Dammit, Azirpahale,” he muttered.

“Sorry?” Aziraphale responded, more a question than an apology.  “You act as though you’ve never seen a naked woman before.”  He laughed, that same silly little giggle Crowley knew so well.  Some things never change.  “When, in fact, if I remember correctly, you were the first person besides Adam to see a naked woman.  The first Adam, I mean.”

“Yes, I know who you meant,” said Crowley.  “And you’re covered.  I just…”

“Does it bother you?” asked Aziraphale, more serious now.

“Nudity doesn’t bother me, angel,” he said.  “Normally has little to no effect on me unless I want it to, but—”

“But _my_ nudity bothers you,” he concluded, speaking slowly.

“It doesn’t bother me, it just…” he stopped himself, shaking his head.  “I’m sorry, I’m just anxious after everything that’s happened today.  I’m scared, and…”

“No, I get it,” Aziraphale nodded.  “I’m only trying to lighten the mood.  I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know.  But if it helps, I’m a bit anxious about it all, too.”

“We’ll get through it,” said Crowley.  “Tomorrow we can try to get into your bookshop.  We can get lunch.  Try to forget all about today, hm?  Think we can do it?”

“I doubt we can,” said Aziraphale thoughtfully.  “I remember everything, from the beginning.”

“I know.  Me, too.”  He cleared his throat.  “Erm, probably not the best time or the most appropriate way to ask, but—”

“Go with ‘he,’” said Aziraphale.  “That’s what I decided in the shower. Still the same me after all.”

“You knew what I was going to ask?” Crowley said, astonished.

“There’s been this…I don’t know, this feeling of, well, I hate to say ‘sexual confusion,’ but that’s what it is,” he said.  “At first I thought it was just me, but I’m thinking now it’s actually you.  Maybe both of us.”

“Sexual confusion?”

“Well, it’s slightly different than the tension I’ve felt off you for the last few millennia,” he said.  “It’s more…confusion.  Tension’s still there, but now there’s confusion.”

“You can feel all that?” he asked, eyes wide.

“Yes,” he said, matter-of-factly.

“Wow,” said Crowley.  “I should be embarrassed, but I’m more—”

“Impressed.  Yes, that’s why I don’t often read you aloud,” Azirpahale said.  “You can’t do the same?  I thought all angels and, er, _former_ angels could do it.”

“I try not to,” said Crowley with a little bit of a laugh.  “You know me.  I don’t read much of anything.”

Aziraphale smiled, nodding.  “Well, good night then.”

“Good night,” Crowley said, and he stepped past Aziraphale again and out the door, closing it behind himself.

Aziraphale got dressed in silence and crawled under the covers, feeling more than a bit exposed.  Crowley’s borrowed clothing certainly covered everything that needed covering, but they were nothing like what Aziraphale was used to.  Nothing was.  He miracled the lights off, then thought better of it.  If anyone came for him in the night, he would at least like to see them coming.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Azirpahale shut his eyes and tried to fall asleep.  He was rather out of practice in the activity, he thought to himself.  Though, “out of practice” didn’t begin to cover it, since Aziraphale had only slept once in his entire existence, and that had been mostly by accident.

He rolled onto his side, then onto his back, his other side, and finally onto his stomach, unable to get comfortable.  He flipped the pillows, stacked them higher, unstacked them, tried a few minutes without one entirely, and finally gave up on it all.

“God,” he muttered.  Then paused, waiting ironically for a response he knew wasn’t going to come.  “Well, since I’m not going to get any sleep,” he said, heaving himself from the bed, and went to the door to peek out.

The hallway was dark, but he could see the light at the end of it, coming from Crowley’s office.  Perhaps he was still awake.  Perhaps he’d like to talk about some of the things that had happened today, or maybe even about some of the things that had happened over the last six thousand years.

Quietly, he made his way down the hall, and found Crowley seated in his throne, his feet up on the desk.  His eyes were closed and his head was tilted back, his mouth open, and Azirpahale could hear him snoring softly.

“Are you asleep?” he asked.

“Hm?” Crowley said, jolting forward suddenly and almost falling out of his chair.  He relaxed when he saw it was only Aziraphale.  “Oh, no, not at all, angel,” he said, his voice full of sleep.  “Is everything alright?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Something wrong with the bed?” he asked.

“Oh, no, no, it-it’s a very nice bed,” Aziraphale stammered.  “It’s just…”

“You don’t want to be alone,” said Crowley.

“Right,” he said softly.

“See?  I can read, too,” he said with a smile.  “No, I understand.  It’s…hard knowing you can’t go home, even if it never really felt like home.  It’s hard going through something like we went through today.  And I assume, what with the, erm, _changes_ you’ve gone through, you’re even more unnerved.”

“No, I don’t mind really,” he said, looking down at himself.  “A body’s a body.  The other one wasn’t terribly comfortable if I’m honest.  This one isn’t either.  It’ll take some getting used to, of course, but it’s not that much of a bother.”

Crowley nodded, looking away to avoid looking at him longer than he should.  “Right.”

“I’m quite concerned about you.”

“What about me?”

“Well, you lost Heaven so many years ago, and now you’ve lost Hell, too.  That must be hard.”

“I never wanted Hell,” he sighed, sinking down in his chair.

“No,” said Aziraphale.  “What you’ve wanted is—”

“The world,” said Crowley.  “Not to rule like they wanted, or to have for my own, of course.  You know, just to live in, among the people and all the wonderful things they’ve created.  And…”

“And?” asked Aziraphale.

“And you,” said Crowley.  “I’ve wanted to live in it with you, in whatever way you’d allow me.”

“Oh,” he said, quite simply, his eyes wide.

“I never said because—”

“Crowley, I knew,” he said.

“You knew?”

“Yes.  Why do you think I’d let you keep finding me?  I couldn’t go after you, of course,” Azirpahale laughed.  “But I could make it look like you were pursuing me.”

He smiled.  “So you did.”

“So I did,” he agreed.

“Six thousand years and I’ve been—what was that term?” he said.

“What term?”  He shook his head.

“That lovely one you used all those years ago in that church,” he said.  “American, I think you said it was.  ‘Played for a sucker.’”  He laughed.  “You sure played me alright.”

“You can’t be saying I manipulated you.”

“Oh, but you did, and I let you,” he said.  “I must admit, I thought it was me being delusional, but now…now I know.”

“So really I’ve been played for a sucker,” said Azirpahale.

“Hmm,” Crowley intoned, looking him over slowly for the first time since they’d been alone.  He was beautiful, he thought.  He had always thought Aziraphale beautiful.  “Maybe we both have.”

“Maybe.”

He cleared his throat, sitting up and crossing his legs.  “Not such a bad thing.”

“No,” he said.  “But what do we do with this information now?”

“Whatever we want,” he shrugged.  “We’ve got eternity to figure it out.  Or at least until the next big war kicks off.”

“Hopefully that won’t be for quite a long time,” said Azirpahale.

“Hopefully so,” Crowley said.

“I was wondering,” Azirpahale said slowly, biting at his lower lip.  “If you, er, wanted to come to bed with me.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow.

“Just to sleep,” he said quickly.  “I mean, maybe another time we could, erm.  I’m sorry, I—we don’t have to do anything like—”

“Angel,” he interrupted, giving him a little half-grin, “I would be happy to come and lie beside you if that would make you feel more comfortable.  We don’t have to do anything more than that.”

“Not this time,” he said cautiously.

“Not any time, if that’s not what you want,” said Crowley.  “But if you ever do…”

“I know you’ve been ready for that for a few thousand years, dear boy,” Azirpahale said, a bit sheepish.  “But if you could give me at least a few more hours, that would be much appreciated.”

Crowley blinked stupidly and cleared his throat.  When he opened his mouth to speak a moment later, no words came out, but an indecipherable sputter.

“I-I’m not sure I heard that properly,” he said after a moment.

“Come to bed?” Azirpahale said again.

“Right,” he said softly, convinced he’d imagined at least some of that, and he got up to follow him back to his bedroom.


End file.
